


The Intrusion Part 3

by Natasha_Barton



Series: The Intrusion [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha_Barton/pseuds/Natasha_Barton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The concluding installment of the Intrusion series details how Bucky and Erin react when their house is under attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Intrusion Part 3

            Bucky shifted restlessly, having just woken up from another nightmare. The movement caused Erin to wake up as well.

            “Bucky? What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

            “It was nothing. Just another nightmare. Go back to sleep, honey.”

            “Are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to talk about it?”

            “I’m fine. I promise. It was just the same old dream about being the asset for Hydra and having to fight Steve. It’s weird – some of my memories are crystal clear, and yet I still struggle to recall my birthday.”

            “That’s because of all the brainwashing. But as long as you have me—which, by the way, will be forever—you won’t have to remember your birthdate, because I’ll simply remind you.”

            “What would I do without you?”

            “Crash and burn,” Erin laughed as she pulled him in for a kiss.

            They were interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. He reached under his pillow and pulled out two guns. A small knife was always strapped to his ankle, just in case he needed it. He slowly climbed out of bed, motioning for Erin to stay quiet. She started to get up, but Bucky placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back into bed.

            “No way. I’m coming with you,” she hissed.

            “Erin, let’s not argue about this right now. I believe there is someone inside our house, and I have to assess the threat before I’m letting you leave this room.”

            “Bucky, it’s probably just a petty thief. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. I’m **_not_** staying here,” she pouted.

            “Fine,” he conceded, “but stay behind me and grab another gun out of the nightstand.” Erin happily jumped out of bed and armed herself.

            They descended the stairs single file, as Bucky had ordered. He paused at the corner, raising his hand to stop Erin. After peering around the corner, they continued down the hallway. Bucky stopped very abruptly, causing Erin to crash into him.

            “Oof!” she grunted.

            “Shh! I hear something.”

            “Did you just shush me?” Erin started to raise her voice. Bucky silenced her with a kiss.

            “Not now. Let me handle this situation first.” He turned back towards the source of the sound. They crept forward to the doorway leading into their home theater.

            “What would a burglar want in there? Everything’s too big to be carried out,” Erin thought out loud.

            “They probably came in through the window in there. It’s the most accessible from the outside.”

            “Bucky? Please try to not get blood all over everything. I don’t need my new home theater to look like a crime scene.”

            “Don’t worry – I’m a professional,” he grinned as he slowly pushed open the door. The room appeared to be empty, but Bucky knew better.

            “If you come out now, maybe I’ll let you live,” he called out. Erin stifled a laugh, knowing that there was no way her husband would ever let this guy leave their house alive. A man gradually rose from his position behind the love seat. His eyes widened at the sight of Bucky, whose metal arm and gun were clearly visible in the moonlight.

            “Don’t shoot! I surrender!” he cowered, sinking back to his knees. Bucky glowered down at the pitiful man while Erin smirked behind him. He reached down and lifted the man from the ground by the front of his shirt.

            “Who are you, and what have you come for?” he growled.

            “I’m no one, really, and I don’t know,” he whimpered. “Can you please put me down?”

            “Oh, you want to get down? Here, let me help you.” Bucky threw him across the room. Erin cringed at the sound of the intruder’s bones cracking as he hit the hardwood floor.

            “Bucky,” she hissed, “we don’t throw people!”

            “Not even bad people?” he raised an eyebrow.

            “Okay, you can throw bad people. But we know nothing about this guy – you don’t know if he’s a bad guy or not.”

            “He broke into our house,” Bucky frowned. “That makes him a bad person.”

            “I guess you’re right,” she sighed. It was hard to argue with Bucky. He grinned as he strolled over to the man, who was now curled up in the fetal position, trying not to move his fractured limbs.

            “Now maybe you’ll answer me. Who are you, and what did you come here for?”

            “I’m sorry…” he moaned. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I was only doing what I was told to do…”

            “Told by who?” Erin walked over.

            “Some chick. I don’t know her name. She insisted that I break into this house specifically; she even told me the best way to get in.”

            “Who would know this information? Unless we’re being watched…” Bucky moved in front of Erin, defensively blocking her from any possible threat.

            “What did this ‘chick’ look like?” Erin asked, attempting to see past her husband. _Watch, it was probably Natasha. Or Clint dressed as a woman…_

            “I’m not entirely sure. It was kind of dark. She was really sassy.”

            “So it was most likely Natasha or Jenna…” Erin mused. Bucky relaxed a bit. “What color was her hair?”

            “Blonde maybe? Like I said, it was dark.”

            “Bucky, I think this is Jenna playing a joke on us. Probably payback for you having that girl break into her house.”

            Bucky muttered something in Russian under his breath; the only audible words were “yebat” and “suka.” He turned menacingly toward the cowering, broken man on the floor.

            “Please, call for help,” he sobbed, clutching his knees to his chest.

            “Oh, I’ll call for help, alright. It just won’t be for you.” An evil glint shone in Bucky’s eyes as he crouched down. “How do you feel about heights?” The intruder’s eyes were full of fear as he started crying harder. “Oh, shut up, you pathetic idiot. No one breaks into my house and gets away with it.” Bucky once again lifted him by the front of his shirt and carried him out of the room. Erin hurriedly followed the moaning sounds up the stairs to the third floor. Bucky had kicked the man out a picture window; he lay motionless on the front lawn.

            “Did you really have to drop him on the front lawn? We have neighbors, you know.” Erin crossed her arms.

            “It was convenient,” he shrugged. The dying man’s arm twitched, causing Bucky to whip out his gun and promptly shoot him 4 times in the chest.

            “Great, now there’s blood to clean up, too.”

            “At least it’s not inside?”

            “This is true,” she sighed, grabbing her phone. Steve picked up on the first ring.

            “Erin? Is something wrong?”

            “We need some help cleaning up a body over here. Jenna thought it would be funny to retaliate.”

            Steve sighed. “Why do you all think this is funny? We have laws-”

            “Yes, I know,” Erin interrupted. “Save the speech for someone who hasn’t heard it a thousand times, or for someone who cares. Are you coming or not?”

            “We’ll be there shortly. Are you calling Natasha and Clint?”

            “Of course,” she scoffed. “They call us to clean up their messes, they have to help clean up ours.”

            “Sounds fair. See you soon.”

            “Bye.” Erin hung up the phone and dialed Natasha’s number. No answer. _I guess I’ll try Clint, then_ , she thought. He didn’t answer, either.

            “Are Clint and Natasha coming?” Bucky looked up.

            “They didn’t pick up. You want to try?”

            “Sure.” He tried calling Natasha.

            “Da?”

            “Chyorni Vdova?”

            “Zeema Soldat?” she mumbled, then cleared her throat. “Bucky? What’s up?”

            “We’ve got a situation and need some help.”

            “Ugh. A dead body, I assume?”

            “What else?” he laughed. Erin rolled her eyes, automatically knowing what they were laughing about. “So, will you guys come help? Steve is already on his way.”

            Natasha sighed loudly. “I guess. You know, it is way too early for this.” Bucky could hear her getting out of bed. “Wait. Where the fuck did Clint go? Dammit, not again!”

            “What’s happening, Tasha?”

            “Clint occasionally wanders off in the middle of the night and sleeps in random places. With his eyes open. He’s usually perched on a dresser or table, bow in hand.”

            “Seriously? Geez, Clint’s weirder than I thought.” Erin gave him a quizzical look. He mouthed “I’ll tell you later,” which just made her more confused, as she had no idea what he was trying to say. He shook his head and went back to his conversation with Natasha. “Have you found Clint yet?”

            “Yeah, he was in the guest bedroom. If it weren’t for my fast reflexes, he would have shot me,” she sighed. “I swear, I’ll have to start strapping him into bed at night if he keeps this up.”

            “Kinky,” Bucky grinned.

            Natasha groaned. “Well, I guess we’ll head over to your house soon, now that Clint’s awake.”

            “Sounds like a plan.”

            Natasha disconnected the call. Erin raised an eyebrow, curious about the half of the conversation she didn’t hear.

            “So it turns out Clint sleep walks and Natasha will find him in random places around their house. Apparently he’s usually ready for battle.”

            “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. And what, exactly, is kinky?” Erin arched an eyebrow.

            Bucky’s laugh was almost childish. “Tasha said something about tying Clint to the bed at night. I doubt it’s to keep him from sleep walking.”

            Erin exhaled slowly. “Bucky, what our friends do in the privacy of their home is their business.”

            “You’re not even a little curious?”

            “Would you want them knowing things about us?”

            The grin vanished from Bucky’s face. “Of course not. That would be wildly inappropriate.”

            “Exactly. I’m gonna go make coffee. Want some?”

            Bucky nodded tersely and followed his wife downstairs.

            Back at the Rogers’ house, Steve was trying to wake Jenna.

            “Jenna, honey, we need to go help Bucky.” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. No response, whatsoever. “Jenna, please wake up. We really need to go clean up this mess you caused.” He flipped on the lights. Finally, Jenna rolled over.

            “What’s happening?” she asked, practically jumping out of bed.

            “Jenna, where are your pants?”

            “How should I know? The last thing I remember is taking Nyquil before bed. What time is it?”

            “About 2:30. Erin called. They need our help cleaning up a body.”

            “What, did someone break into their house, too? What is with all the crime in this city?”

            Steve gave her a disapproving look. “She told me you caused this break in.”

            “Me? Why would I want someone to break into their home theater?”

            “I never said what room they broke into.”

            Jenna was silent, grinning sheepishly at her husband.

            He sighed. “Let’s go before someone calls the police.” They quickly got dressed and into the car.

            “Steve, are you mad at me?”

            “I just don’t understand what is so funny about crime and the loss of human life.”

            “Steve, your best friends are Russian assassins.”

            “FORMER Russian assassins. They’re reforming.”

            “Really? It’s Natasha and Bucky. You really think **they’re** going to reform?”

            “Well, I can try, can’t I?”

            “You can try, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. It’s hard to take the ‘assassin’ out of ‘former Russian assassin.’”

            “I know,” he sighed again. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.”

            “You’re damn right, you will. Stop being such a party pooper.”

            “I’m not a party pooper,” he pouted.

            “Sorry, hon,” Jenna said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “but you kinda are. Don’t worry, I still love you.”

            “Good,” he grinned. “Well, we’re here. I wonder if Clint and Natasha are coming.”

            “Probably, as long as they’re *ahem* not too busy,” Jenna laughed.

            “Jenna!”

            “Oh, come on, Steve. Lighten up.” They walked past the body and up to the front door, where Steve promptly rang the doorbell.

            Across town, Clint and Natasha were finally leaving.

            “I don’t understand why **_we_** have to go if Steve and Jenna are helping out,” Clint whined. “Some of us were sleeping.”

            Natasha gave him a pointed look. “Some of us were sleeping where they were supposed to be, i.e., in their beds. _Some_ of us had to go looking for their husband in the middle of the night because he keeps sleeping in random fucking places in the house. And s _ome_ of us know how to help out our friends and repay our debts.”

            “Geez, Nat, I’m sorry. You know I don’t try to freak you out. I fall asleep in bed and wake up elsewhere. I’m not intentionally doing any of this. And, as always, you’re right about the ‘helping out friends’ thing. I guess I’m just crabby from lack of sleep and stiff joints.”

            “You wouldn’t be so stiff if you stayed in bed.”

            “That’s not necessarily true.” He winked suggestively.

            “Am I the only one without a filthy mind?”

            “Oh please.” Clint rolled his eyes. “Your mind is nowhere near clean.”

            “Compared to you, though, I’m practically a saint,” Natasha laughed as she parked her car behind Steve’s.

            “Speaking of, how red do you think I can make Steve by bringing up the you-know-what?” Clint smirked. “And how will Jenna react?”

            “Steve will turn as red as the stripes on the flag, and Jenna will probably laugh as hard as you did when you found out about it. Come on, let’s go embarrass our friends.” Instantly in better moods, they knocked on the front door. Erin opened it and led them into the living room, where Steve, Jenna, and Bucky were talking.

            “Natasha! Clint! I’m so glad you’re here!” Bucky stood and gestured towards the sofa. “Please, take a seat. We were just discussing the repercussions of killing people.”

            “Why am I not surprised?” Natasha muttered as she took a seat next to Jenna.

            “Hey, Steve, where’s your shield?” Clint asked cheerfully.

            “At home. Why?” Steve looked at him suspiciously.

            “Just wondering where you kept it when you’re actually wearing clothes. Obviously not the same spot.”

            “What are you talking about?” Realization slowly sunk in as Jenna burst out laughing. Clint soon joined in as Bucky and Erin looked on in confusion.

            “Seriously. What is Clint talking about?” Erin asked Tasha.

            “Oh, the other night when we were helping out at their house, we overheard part of a conversation. Apparently Steve only gets one article of clothing a day, and it’s usually his shield when they’re home alone,” Tasha whispered back. Bucky thought this was hilarious. Erin and Natasha started to snicker as Steve’s whole body turned a deep red.

            “How… how do you know this? Why are we discussing this? It’s… it’s very inappropriate!”

            “Yes it is, Steve, but it’s also hilarious!” Bucky said between gasps for breath.

            “Remember when that girl broke into your house? And Natasha and I forgot our coats? Well, we tried to come back for them. We overheard Jenna yell something to you, and Nat quickly shoved me back out the door,” Clint chuckled. Jenna’s face was almost as red as Steve’s, although it was for an entirely different reason; she was lying across the couch, laughing so hard she was struggling to breathe.

            “Bucky—you’re what, 95 now? You’ve gotta have an oxygen tank around here or something. I think Jenna needs help breathing.” Tasha looked concerned, as Jenna hadn’t taken a proper breath in several minutes.

            “Technically, yes, I am about 95, but I do not require the assistance of an oxygen tank. With all the cryofreeze, my body is roughly 30,” he huffed.

            “Whatever.” Tasha rolled her eyes. Jenna finally got her breathing under control and sat up. “So, we’re all here for the body. Bucky, I’m surprised none of your neighbors have called the cops on you yet.”

            “That’s what I said!” Steve interjected.

            “I think they’re too afraid of me to call the police,” Bucky shrugged.

            “Just in case that theory is wrong, we should probably take care of that body soon.” Erin stood and went to gather cleaning supplies. When she came back, she handed out gloves, plastic bags, and buckets of water.

            “The body’s outside—what’s the water for?” Clint was puzzled.

            “There’s blood on my lawn. The water will dilute it and hopefully help it soak into the soil or something. If nothing else, it should wash the blood off the grass, making it green again,” Erin explained on the way out.

            “Bucky, was it really necessary to break this guy so badly?” Steve gazed down at the almost disfigured remains.

            “He wanted me to put him down, so I did. A few times.”

            “There’s so much blood.” Natasha shuddered slightly.

            “For someone who makes so many other people bleed, it’s ridiculous that you should have an issue with blood,” Steve smirked.

            “I don’t have an issue with blood, per se, I just don’t like having to clean it up. Luckily, I’ve been able to avoid that. Well, until recently, that is.” Tasha helped Clint lift the body into a bag. All of his broken bones made it possible to fit him in just one.

            After about 20 minutes, it was almost impossible to tell anyone had died on the front lawn. They loaded the body into the trunk of Steve’s car and went back inside for coffee.

            “Steve, so you think you could fix our broken window?” Bucky inquired.

            “Let me take a look.”

            “Come on.” Bucky led Steve down the hall to the home theater. Erin finished making coffee and poured it into mugs. Clint reached for the pot and went to take a sip.

            “Clint! Grab a mug, not the pot! Where are your manners?”

            “Sorry, Nat. For a second, I forgot we weren’t at home.”

            “Some days, I don’t know what’s going on in his head,” Tasha muttered to Jenna and Erin.

            “I heard that! And good. It’s more fun to keep you guessing,” Clint grinned. Tasha rolled her eyes as she sipped her tea.

            Soon, Steve and Bucky wandered back in.

            “I’ll go pick up a new piece of glass and fix that window for you tomorrow.” Steve grabbed a mug.

            “Awesome!” Erin exclaimed, handing the last mug to Bucky.

            “So Steve,” Clint turned to face him, “whose idea was it?”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “The shield.”

            “Well, Howard Stark presented me with several options, but I preferred the vibranium prototype. So I guess it was my idea.”

            “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Clint chuckled as Steve began to turn crimson again.

            “Will you ever learn to just let things go?” Steve growled.

            “It was all my idea,” Jenna snickered. “But as entertaining as this is, Steve’s right. Please, just drop it, Clint.”

            “Fine,” Clint sighed dramatically. “I was just curious if Steve would turn as red the second time I brought it up.” Natasha choked on her tea as she tried to stifle a laugh.

            “Sorry, Steve, but I think you’ll be hearing about this for a long time.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave her husband a disdainful look.

            “That’s what I was afraid of…”

            “I’m sure you guys have your… kinks.” Jenna looked around the room at her friends.

            “I’m not saying we do *ahem bondage,*” Bucky looked pointedly at Tasha and Clint, “but even if we did, I don’t think it’s appropriate to share.” He nonchalantly took a sip of his coffee.

            “What is this I hear about bondage?” Jenna turned expectantly toward Tasha.

            “First of all, I’m not admitting to **_anything_**. Second, that is out of context. Clint tends to sleepwalk, so I said I might have to start tying him to the bed at night. Bucky twisted that and now has some convoluted notion that we’re into bondage,” Natasha glared at Bucky. “I was merely stating that physical restraints might become necessary if the problem persists.”

            “Bucky’s right; this conversation is very inappropriate.” Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

            “Oh, loosen up, Steve. It’s not the 1940s anymore.” Clint tossed a balled up napkin at Steve, who deflected it. “What’s the big deal with me telling you guys that Nat and I—”

            “Clint. Shut. Your. Mouth,” Natasha hissed. “I swear to God, if you finish that sentence—”

            “I know, I know. I’ll regret it. I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

            “Because some things are private. And if you share any of those things, they’re not going to happen for a long time, if _ever_ again.” Natasha narrowed her eyes. Clint pressed his lips together and pretended to lock them shut. “Good choice.”

            Bucky snickered quietly into his mug, which prompted Erin to smack his good shoulder.

            “Care to share what you find so funny?”

            “Clint, you are whipped.” His snickering was no longer quiet.

            “Oh please, like you wouldn’t do the same?” Erin sassed. That shut Bucky up very quickly. Jenna’s sudden laughter drew everyone’s attention to Steve, who appeared to be trying to make himself as small as possible; he clearly did not want to be part of this conversation.

            “Though he might not admit it, I tend to wear ‘the pants’ in this relationship,” Jenna grinned.

            “Yeah, that’s because Steve’s usually wearing the shield,” Clint muttered to Tasha, who playfully hit his arm.

            “Why do I hang out with you people?” Steve grumbled; this only prompted more laughter from his friends.

            “I’d imagine that body’s starting to smell pretty bad locked up in your trunk…” Erin muttered as the laughter died down.

            “Oh yeah!” Jenna stopped laughing, “I suppose we should probably take care of that…”

            “We should go, too. We’ve been here way longer than anticipated, and I have a mission debriefing in a few hours.” Tasha carried her mug over to the sink.

            “Another one? Where are you going this time?” Steve asked, thankful the conversation had become appropriate again.

            “Nick hasn’t told me much yet. All he said was to pack my parka and brush up on my foreign languages.”

            “How long will you be gone for?”

            “Hopefully only a few days. I have some… personal matters to attend to next week, so I have to be here.”

            Erin arched an eyebrow at Tasha’s cryptic explanation. _That seemed more vague than usual. Then again, if it was important, she would just tell us…_ She sighed as she gathered the remaining mugs.

            “Well, we have to stop at the morgue on our way home, so we should head out.” Jenna handed Steve his coat and began to put her own on.

            “And I need a little more sleep before dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D. crap.” Natasha tossed her keys to Clint, who seemed more than a little surprised.

            “Really? I get to drive your new car?”

            “Why not? As long as you don’t hit anything or get us arrested,” she warned.

            “New Porsche?” Jenna asked.

            “Ferrari, actually. Just picked it up last week.”

            “Nice! You’ve gotta let me test drive it at some point.”

            “If it’s still in one piece when we get home, sure. Good night! Er, good morning? Good whatever. I’m out of here.”

            “Captain America out!” Jenna yelled over her shoulder on her way out the door. Steve groaned; the others laughed.

            Natasha and Clint quickly followed suit, waving as they pulled out of the driveway.

            “It’s what, 3:30? 4?” Erin asked.

            “Almost 5, actually.”

            “Wow. Well, I probably won’t be able to fall back asleep now.”

            “Same. We should probably clean up that broken glass.”

            “I thought you and Steve were going to do that when you went to look at the window!”

            “We got sidetracked and forgot,” Bucky shrugged.

            Erin made an indignant noise. “Fine. I’ll get the broom.” They half-heartedly cleaned up the shattered bits of the window in their home theater; Erin hadn’t had enough coffee to care all that much, and Bucky simply didn’t care. They trudged back to their bedroom, and even though they were still exhausted from sleep deprivation, no amount of tossing and turning helped them fall back asleep.

            “This is pointless. We might as well get up,” Erin sighed.

            “Get up? You mean out of bed?”

            “Hell no. I’m way too comfortable for that.”

            “Good. Say, weren’t we about to do something before we were so rudely interrupted by Jenna’s pathetic excuse for a burglar?”

            “Ah yes, I believe we were,” Erin replied with a sly grin, pulling her husband in for a kiss.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

            Steve was quiet on the way home, still uncomfortable from all the sharing of intimate details.

            “I’m going to kill Clint.”

            “No, you’re not.”

            “What we do in the privacy of our own home is our business, and he doesn’t seem to understand that.”

            “That’s just the way Clint is. Our friends know now, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

            “I can always just kill Clint.”

            Jenna frowned at her husband. “About 2 hours ago we were discussing why we shouldn’t kill people. You are most definitely NOT going to kill one of your closest friends. Besides, you know what that would do to Tasha, and consequently, what she would do to you.”

            Steve was silent for a few moments, staring at the road in front of them. Finally, he sighed loudly and said, “You’re right. You’re always right. I know I’m uptight about things, but I can’t help it. I’m from the 1940s; these things weren’t openly discussed back then. But I promise, I’ll try to become more comfortable with all of this. It’s the 21st century, and I have to get used to the… way of life.”

            “Don’t change too much,” Jenna teased. “And I’ll talk to Tasha. If anyone can get Clint to keep his mouth shut, it’s her.”

            “Thanks. I love you.”

            “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”


End file.
